“He looks awful,” Sarah said, worry in her voice. “My father looked a lot like that before he…” Tears dropped down Sarah’s cheek.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. You don’t have to stay,” Lillian said.
“No, the worst part of this waiting on an ill loved one is feeling alone. I shall stay as long as you do.”
“Clarence!” Lady Amber came to stand on the other side of Lillian. “He doesn’t look well,” she said in strident tones.
Lillian glanced at Amber and saw the pallor of her skin. “You do not appear too well yourself, Lady Amber. Go find a place to sit. When you are feeling better, you can arrange rooms for us. I am not leaving here until he is doing better.”
“I am glad to hear it,” a new voice said from behind them. “However, I shall arrange for an extra suite to be made up. I’d already prepared one for you and your companion.”
Lillian turned and saw a woman with auburn hair, much like Lady Amber’s, striding toward them. She exuded refined power.
Lillian stood. “What happened?” She tried to sound as calm as the other woman had.
“I am his mother, the Dowager Duchess of Canterbury. I presume you are the Lady Lillian I have heard so much about.”
Lillian blushed at the loss of her manners. “Yes, Your Grace. I am.” She did a small curtsy and bit her tongue to refrain from pushing for an answer.
“As to your question, I am quite sure that I do not know anything about the matter. George has been taking care of him. Perhaps he knows. Doctor came in, but other than suggesting Clarence remain here rather than being taken up the stairs, he didn’t have much to add. I will instruct George to answer your questions, if you wish.”
Lillian heard an undercurrent in the dowager’s voice but couldn’t place the why. Perhaps it could simply be attributed to worry over her son. “I appreciate the kindness, Your Grace.”
“Also, the ball to announce your engagement is being moved to two days hence. I had not sent out the invites, yet, so they can go out tomorrow’s post instead. Now,” she said brusquely, “I will have the others get settled and send George to you.”
There it was again, an undercurrent, but this time, Lillian would swear the dowager sent a sidelong glance to Lady Amber. It gave her the distinct impression she didn’t like Lady Amber. She mentally shook her head and moved her attention back to Clarence.
Everyone except Lillian and Sarah left the study. Lillian knelt down by him, again grasping his hand in hers. The pain beat unmercifully in her chest, and tears threatened. He’d come to mean a great deal to her. More, she admired his honor.
“Oh Lillian,” Sarah said and clasped her shoulder. “You love him.” It was a statement.
Lillian’s throat worked past the lump there before she answered. “Do you believe in love at first sight, Sarah?”
“Yes,” she replied with conviction.
“That first time our eyes connected, I felt something deep inside, and my body reacted to him as it had no other. Then, he rescued me. We kissed there on the docks.”
“Lillian!”
“He hid me in the shadows, and proceeded to pretend I was his doxy when the men came to the alley I’d hidden myself in.” The memory bit hard. Seeing him like this only furthered the realization of what he risked, what she almost had in store for her if not for him. “I’d not have gotten away without him. I had no idea where to go, how to get back.”
Sarah knelt down beside her and hugged her, and it released the dam of tears. “I…I threw myself at him once we were safe in the carriage. He could have taken me right then, but he didn’t. I think, that’s when I fell in love with him. It’s the only thing that makes the rest make sense.”
“What rest?” Sarah’s voice was quiet, not judgmental, and she continued to hold Lillian.
“I’ve told him things, things I’d never tell anyone. Even Janice trusted him, so I kept telling myself I was just going with my instincts. But it was more than that, right from the beginning. On the carriage ride home, when I inquired as to how I could repay him, he asked me for a pretend engagement, then turned around and told me he wanted to make it real. But, that if I wanted out, he’d make sure he’d take the blame.”
“Lillian, love…” The duke’s moan grabbed both their attention.
“Lillian, he loves you, too?”
“No, I don’t know. Well, I don’t see how.”
“He must. He’s out of his mind with fever, and that’s the second time he’s said those two words together.”
Lillian almost dared to hope, but too often, she’d seen how hope destroyed, how believing one was loved really ruined women’s lives. But the love and hope bloomed within her all the same, and her heart filled with joy. “If only you’re right, Sarah,” she whispered.
“Ahem.” Lillian and Sarah both whipped their heads around at the intrusion.
“Sorry to intrude, my ladies. I was asked to come and answer any questions.” He stood stiff, ramrod straight.
Lillian stood and faced him. She cocked her head as she studied him. “You must be George. You’ve been in the military, have you not?”
His eyebrows moved up, the only show of surprise he revealed, yet she instinctively knew she’d shocked him with her question. “Yes, my lady. At the end of War of 1812, and more recently, in China and India, with his lordship.”
“The Dark Duke was in the military?” Now he’d shocked her.
“Yes, my lady. He was but a lad for the Napoleon wars, but he went in as soon as he was old enough, even though he could have received a waiver as he was the only son of the former duke.”
“And his father allowed it?”
“His father encouraged it. My lady, may I be frank?”
“Of course, George. I am asking personal questions of your lord.”
“Why do you ask these questions? I believed you would be asking after his wound.”
“Trust me, George, I shall be asking for a detailed accounting. However, my betrothed and I have not had much time to talk. Your answers are helping me understand him better. You do not need to answer anything that you feel would be betraying his lordship.”
He bowed his head then said, “I am at your service, of course. His father was of the nobility who believed in the crown, the old ways of knowing how to fight for the crown, should you be called. He said it was his duty to protect the crown as much as provide an heir.”
“You liked him very much.” The servant’s accounting didn’t mesh well with the gossip she’d heard. Then again, how much gossip had spread about her from a jealous brother or rival that was not true?
“Aye, my lady. I did. I was proud to serve him both here and in the army.”
“I presume that is where you learned your doctoring skills?”
“I have not lost a patient yet.”
“See that you do not start with this one.”
A grin flashed across the stalwart servant’s face. “Of course, my lady.” Then he sobered. “I am glad you are here. He has not quit calling for you. It is a deep wound. I am afraid he lost a lot of blood. The carriage is still being cleaned. It may be ruined. We, all of us servants, are highly concerned, if you don’t mind my saying so, your ladyship.”
“No, I do not, George. I appreciate your candor.” Even if it did capture her heart even more, causing her love to solidify for the duke. She had lucked out to have him there at the docks. Perhaps George could help her find out how that had came to be.
“Why was he at the docks?”
George paled. “M-my lady?”
“Come, George. I know he was at the docks night before last. My question is why?”
George’s color returned a bit. “I am sure I couldn’t say.”
For the first time, she felt he prevaricated, and unease threaded through her. “I plan on staying with him. What should I do, and what should I watch for?”
“It is not a job for a lady, begging your pardon.”
“Nonsense. I am his betrothed. It is
my job to take care of him. Women have been taking care of menfolk returned from war for all of known history. Tell me what to do.”
She swore she saw his lips quirk as if to smile, but then he came forward. He lifted Clarence’s shirt and showed her the bandaging.
“Oh dear God,” she whispered and grasped Sarah’s hand in support. “It is horrid.” She glanced back at his face to reassure herself he was still alive. The blood soaked through, as well as some other orange and yellow and blackened parts.
“I am sorry, my lady. It is almost time to clean and change the bandaging.”
“Do it, and show me how.”
George’s eyebrows went into his hairline. “As you wish, my lady. I will go fetch the warmed water and sheets you’d asked for earlier. They are just outside the door. I’d brought them with me.”
“George, from this point on, you bring any and all medicinal needs of his lordship in as soon as they are needed. Do not mind me or anyone else in the household. Your first priority must be the duke.”
“Yes, my lady. It shall be done.”
“Good. Now, retrieve the needed items and let’s do what is needed.”
“Lillian?”
Sarah’s weak voice had her gaze sharpening on her friend’s pallor. “Sarah, are you alright? Do you need smelling salts?”
Sarah swallowed visibly. “No, but I do need to go out while you do this. You are a brave woman. I will settle us in our rooms. Janice can help me with yours.”
“Thank you,” Lillian said and grasped both her hands. “You are a dear friend for staying when it obviously distresses you. It is a great help having you here. Oh, I will need to have someone send word to my parents.”
“I will see to it.
Lillian watched her friend leave for a moment, then turned her attention to George’s instructions.
George took a rag and wrung out some warm water over the bandages, slowly pulling them off as they came loose. Whenever Clarence’s face screwed up in pain or he cried out, Lillian’s heart wrenched. She’d been tempted to order him to stop, but as George knew what he was doing and she had no clue, she bit her tongue and watched and learned.
Clarence’s pallor had worsened. A sheen of sweat shone on his forehead. She took a torn cloth and wiped his brow, murmuring words she didn’t really pause to think about, just offering comfort and reassurance.
“My lady, here’s the part the doctor may not agree with. But, in my experience, I noticed that being clean seemed to help the wound stay better. I’d done it just because it was my job to take care of his lordship. He healed faster and cleaner than others.” George shrugged as if embarrassed. “I’d mostly done it to keep busy when I was worried he wouldn’t make it—the old duke, I mean.”
“Whatever you’ve done has worked. I will do my best. Thank you for your obviously meticulous and competent care. Now, go rest,” she ordered gently. “I am here and not afraid of a little blood.”
George nodded and left.
She grabbed the blanket folded on the arm of the chaise and carefully covered Clarence with it. She gently caressed his face before turning and searching for a chair she could move by his side. Not seeing one, she instead dropped down to her knees again and clasped his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips.
“Come back to me, Clarence. You may be my last hope at love,” she whispered as in prayer.
“Lillian,” he groaned. “Safe. Must keep safe. Protect. Lillian.”
“Oh, Clarence, I am safe. You must get better.”
If she hadn’t been in love before, she would be now. Even in a fever, he was worried about her. How had she been so lucky as to have him there to rescue her?
Chapter Nine
“It was like taking candy from a baby.” Jarvis grinned as he bragged to his boss, holding a lamp aloft and chewing on the end of a cheroot while they moved deeper into the bowels of the dank warehouse.
The boss always wore a full facial mask and spoke in low undertones. The two brute bodyguards stood at his side, or Jarvis would risk grabbing that mask off to give them a bit more equal ground. As slim as Boss was, Jarvis bet Boss wasn’t so tough without his brutes at his side. At the start, the money had been enough that he hadn’t cared whom he dealt with, but now, it annoyed Jarvis that the boss knew who he was, yet he didn’t know who he took his orders from.
“No trouble, then?”
“He didn’t even bring anyone with him.” He’d taken care of what little trouble there had been. No need for Boss to know the extent.
“You are sure he doesn’t know whom you are?”
The tone sent a shiver down Jarvis’ spine. Boss spoke in a way which made him more afraid than any direct threat could have. “How could he? I never told him. Why would I?” Jarvis said in disgust, setting the lamp down on a nearby table set there just for that purpose and lit his cheroot. “He is way below my station.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes,” he said, deeply offended. “He wore clothes of worse quality than my stable boy and fought like a girl.” Unlike Boss’s clothing which practically screamed money. The deep rich fabrics and cut of the trousers impeccably fell to just the right length so as not to drag. He wished he’d dared ask the name of the tailor.
“Yet Thomas is laid up with a broken face and wrist.”
Irritation hit him square in the gut as he stared into Boss’s disconcerting gaze. The blue eyes seemed to see right through a body. That was another thing. Boss seemed to know all their names and who was doing what at any given moment. He made a mental note to find out who told about Thomas. There had been explicit instructions to keep it quiet.
“Aye, granted, he had a mean left hook, but if you work on the docks much, you have to, you know?”
“Point. Now, let us see to this cargo before it ships out.”
“Over here, your lordship.”
Jarvis pried the lid off the keg of one of the French bourbons. The odor hit him first, before he saw the contents. Fish eyes and bones bobbed up and down. He gagged as he fumbled to put the lid back on quick like. He coughed and coughed until the stench had left his nostrils. The vision of the opaque eyeballs seared into his mind and couldn’t be pushed out as easily.
“Where is my bourbon,” Boss whispered.
“I swear. I checked a barrel of each.”
“You obviously did not check enough. I suggest you open all the barrels to check, then replace the ones not opium.”
Jarvis’ hands shook as the bodyguards took a menacing step closer. He’d witnessed them breaking the neck—in tandem—of two who tried to blackmail Boss for more money before handing over the merchandise. At a nod from Boss, they’d simply stepped forward and twisted their heads and dropped their lifeless forms. Then they’d stepped back a pace behind Boss and stood there as if two dead bodies weren’t laying there.
It had been up to Jarvis and the two others left to hide their corpses. The Thames came in handy. Even if found later, no one could prove anything. But after that, none of them had questioned Boss, at least, not to his face. Behind his back, they’d all wondered. But even the bodyguards were disguised, the low hanging hat bands keeping half their faces hidden, their upturned coats hiding the lower portion so that only bits of skin shown, not even enough to be sure of race.
He maneuvered to the opium barrels and pried open the next barrel, using more caution than he’d exercised with the kegs. When the lid came off, the dark, tarry liquid at least looked right, and he allowed himself a breath. With caution, he bent forward and sniffed then frowned. He stuck a finger in and put some of the substance on his tongue. A mixture of sugar, dirt, and tar hit his taste buds, and he spit it out.
Boss stepped forward and copied the motion, also spitting it out. “You fool!” he hissed. “What have you done? Taken the word of a ruffian and a cheat? You need to find a replacement shipment immediately, or…”
The smile did not fool Jarvis.
“Where am I supposed to find that
much opium and bourbon so quickly?” Only years of practice at hiding things kept the hysteria at bay as Boss cut him with those penetrating eyes.
“That is not my problem. You need to procure it, though, and I don’t care how it’s done. Or I will send our buyers you, trussed up like a Christmas goose, bound in chains, and properly humiliated in return for their lost merchandise. After recent losses caused by the English Navy and East India Trading Company, I’m sure they can find something to do with an English lord that would make them money.” The raspy voice made Boss’s meaning all too clear, somehow worse in the vagueness.
“Right away,” he said, voice cracking.
However, as soon as Boss left his sight, he started shaking and took out a linen kerchief, wiping the back of his neck, sweating despite the freezing cold in the drafty, fetid warehouse. Where could he find thirty barrels of opium, even raw, and twenty kegs of French bourbon to be shipped out within three days? If they didn’t leave by then, they’d for sure miss the meet up time.
Robert stepped out from behind a barrel. “Someone has played you false, Uncle.”
“Yes, and I’ll find him and deal with him,” Jarvis said, feeling a bit more like himself at that thought. “I nearly had him already.”
“I’m sure we can find someone in one of my dens of card games who knows where to get opium and quickly. I heard talk last week from Lord Hempshire. The bourbon is easy. I’ll just take it from the estates. I found a whole storage room full of them last summer.” Sneering, he continued. “They’d hidden them in an old area no one was supposed to be in. Dear ol’ Dad has me going to the country anyway, thinks I’m there already. I want a larger cut, though, as I am going to the trouble of getting them out of that decrepit stone relic he calls the family keep.”
Jarvis growled. “You’ll get the same cut. I did all the work before. You only have to play deep in your cups and garner information. I’m the one dealing with the lowborn.” Upstart needed to remember his place in dealing with his elders.
“All right, Uncle,” Robert said hastily.
Darkest Valentine Page 8